A Conversation + With Luis Lopez or "You Go Luis!"

I leave the meet and greet I went to on March 3 feeling just a little bit unsatisfied.  The candidate I met while impressive didn’t quite connect with me.  So it only makes sense to explore the rest of the field.  A quick search online leads me to the names of three other candidates.  All three have websites, but only one has an event for me to attend on March 10.  One guy’s website looks like little more than an online solicitation for donations.  The other one has events, but his upcoming events involve precinct walking.  I’m not even sure if I support him and he expects me to volunteer for his campaign before I even meet him.  I find that just a tad bit odd.  The last candidate is Luis Lopez and he has a meet and greet in Echo Park.

New Business Profile: CIS Tobacco or Let's Make Some Smokes

I likes me my tobakkee, and I when I saw the flier for CIS International Tobacco I knew I would have to go to there.  I'm a smoker and I enjoy tobacco.  I make no apologies for it because tobacco is not only my addiction it's a hobby.  I've smoked pipes; all manner of cigarettes both foreign and domestic; cigars; and for about a five year period I made my own cigarettes using a machine that stuffed loose tobacco into empty cigarette tubes.  Someday I hope to grow my own tobacco.  I can talk about drags and draws; I know the difference between a creamy smoke and a bitter smoke.  I do warn anyone who thinks about taking up this hobby: “If it becomes more an addiction than hobby it might be best if you stopped.”  That said I am an aficionado of all things tobacco related.


When I walked into CIS International Tobacco I expected nothing more than the usual; I thought it must be like all the other area smoke shops.  From the flier, I thought there might be more varieties of loose tobacco for someone like me to taste and try.  They even advertised blends; I've made some interesting blends myself over the years tobacco blends and tobacco and mint/clove blends, but I've always had to make do with the small variety of loose tobacco the local smoke shops had to offer.  I was excited to see what new cigarettes I might make and taste.  Then I saw the machine:

Coffee And Pastries With Jimmy Gomez or My Breakfast With Jimmy Gomez

Like so much of what happens to me these days, this bit starts with something random.  I'm walking down to the first floor unit of my parents' duplex—It's empty, so we use it for storage because the city thinks my parents are slumlords or something.  I could go on and on about that situation, but I'll leave that for another time—and there's the flier for Jimmy Gomez for Assembly.  I'm not big about politics in particular but I try to keep up with local issues.  I know with redistricting they've made one big district of most of Northeast Los Angeles, and I'm curious to see how that turns out.  Jimmy Gomez made the first move by putting up a flier on the door of a vacant apartment, so I might as well check out Jimmy Gomez firsthand at a March 3, 2012 coffee meet and greet in a home out by the Southwest Museum.

I wake up and drive out there; it's a narrow winding road up to Rustic Drive and I pass by the house only noting in passing the smallish photo of  Jimmy Gomez taped up to the mailbox.  There's no room to turn around until I do a U-turn at the next intersection.  Swinging around back I find a space to park; I know I should have just walked to this event, but forgive me I really don't like walking up hills.  I smoke in front of the house admiring the general nature of the neighborhood; it's like a different world from the other side of the hill where I live.  There's even a new home under construction a few houses from where I stand; I don't know who can actually afford to build a home in the city.  My parents went for that years ago failing miserably when permits were not approved.

3 Pitches or Why You So Rude XXXXX?

I asked my ex-boss if he'd mind if I pitched a few ideas to him about promotions or events he can have at his bar.  He said he'd rather I prepare a presentation for him to review at his leisure.  It's been two weeks and I haven't heard back from him, so that's clearly a big NO.  I put them here now for anyone who wants some interesting ideas for events to promote.  You can have them; I'm moving on to other projects.


If you're interested in the sample press releases and fliers feel free to leave a comment and I'll mail you a PDF.

First off thank you for allowing me to make these pitches to you today.  Their construction was an amusing challenge.  That said let’s start off with NotTetris.

NotTetris is a live version of the console puzzle game Tetris.  On page 2 you can look at the design of the apparatus itself.  I have every confidence that it will be easy enough to construct if necessary.

If you are unfamiliar with the rules of Tetris then please take a moment and refer to this page for the basics of Tetris.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetris

NotTetris will have a different set of rules, but fundamentally it will be recognizable as a Tetris-like puzzle game.  I call it NotTetris simply because someone owns the intellectual property for Tetris.  A more suitable name can be brainstormed if necessary.  For the purpose of this slight and small project we can ignore the possible legal ramifications because the costs to pursue legal action will be much higher than any possible awards that can be won.  In the worst case scenario we will be able to run this promotion at least 6-10 times before we have to answer any cease and desist notice.  That said let’s consider the rules for NotTetris.

GOOGLE Lies Or My First Show At The Glasshouse

GOOGLE lies.  I thought I could trust them.  I had faith that their directions would get me to where I was going, guess that explains how I find myself driving down the Pomona Freeway heading out to Riverside when where I want to go is miles and miles in the opposite direction.  The directions I wrote down were simple enough.  Pomona Freeway East to the San Bernardino Freeway East exit Garey/Orange Grove Right Right at W. 2nd Blvd.  If you have half a mind for directions you already know there’s a mistake somewhere in that and it completely explains why I had to stop at a Target in Eastvale to consult a map.

My first stop is the Santa Anita Racetrack for Law Enforcement Day.  My mother, who works at the Inmate Reception Center, gave me a ticket to get into the park for the day.  Friends of mine have said some good things about the place--I have been there before but I was little more than a child at the time--so I wanted to take the chance to check the place out.  Now I don’t need GOOGLE to get to the Santa Anita Racetrack; I’ve been down in the area a few times to eat at a great dumpling place nearby.  I’m relatively familiar with the area and I have confidence that I can find a giant thing like a racetrack without much trouble, but I use GOOGLE anyway.

Without the free admission and parking, going to Santa Anita would have been about ten bucks more expensive for me.  And since I’m no fan of gambling or horses--though I wouldn’t be against eating horsemeat--I really wouldn’t go to Santa Anita.  Still, I’m there and I want to explore the extent of the place.  I greet my mother, aunt, and cousin Ganda.  I have a $6.50 Pacifco to pass the time until my cousin is ready to head out into the park proper to try her hand at betting on the ponies.

When we get to walking about, I notice the sheer scope of the the racetrack.  Through a tunnel we come out to the grandstand where we catch the end of the first or second race.  There’s some dispute to the order of finish, and when the results are posted cheers and groans flow through the crowd around us.  With twenty minutes or so until the next race, I explain to Ganda the basic principles of parimutuel betting.  It’s a simple concept that she grasps readily, but when I try to explain the basics of odds, she’s a little bit lost.  I let it go because it’s not necessary for her to really understand if all she wants to do is make a couple of small bets.  

We head into the space underneath the grandstands and walk around all the betting windows.  I don’t get to walk all around the place, but I’m sure I’m not missing anything but more of the same crowds of people carousing and betting.  I do note how freely everyone here smokes.  That alone is something rather cool, there aren’t any designated smokers ghettos where we are forced to gather to enjoy a bit of tobacco.  I get the feeling we can smoke anywhere we please for the most part except in clearly designated areas where we cannot.  Still as I walk through those places I can still smell the scent of fresh tobacco smoke.

The next race is set to start so we head back to the rail where I challenge Ganda to pick a horse and see how she does.  We watch the horses strut awhile before they take their places and the race begins.  They race past us and through the turn and around the bend and somewhere to our left out of our sight the race ends.  Ganda’s pick places.  That’s more than enough of that for me, so we had back to the Law Enforcement Day area.

I pick up some Space Dots ice cream before we settle back to the table.  I’ve got a couple of hours to kill so I do some reading until more of my cousins and their kids arrive.  Now we are seven or eight at the table and I’m talking to another cousin Dartanyum who’s still in either grade school or early junior high.  He’s not much of a talker but I promise him Space Dots if he eats some chicken and mashed potatoes.

While I wait for Dartanyum to finish his food the next race is gearing up and Ganda wants to make a bet.  We head out to the betting windows right next to the picnic area.  She’s going to do a Pick Six.  I know it’s a sucker’s bet, but a mark has got be a mark I suppose.  She gets her ticket just as the race begins.  We watch the board to see how the race is progressing because we can’t get to the rail before the race ends.  It doesn’t take long before my cousin’s first pick is out of the running and by race’s end her pick comes in at seven or eight.  I wait for her to tear up her now worthless ticket.  She doesn’t but I figure she’s keeping it as a souvenir.  When I see her the following day she explains that she didn’t know that her ticket was worthless.  I guess I failed to properly explain how the Pick Six bet works.

Back at the table, Dartanyum is done eating and his sister wants to go out to the kid’s midway and playground.  We follow them out but head to the Space Dots stand before rejoining them.  I ask him if he wants to try any of these midway games, but he casually says that they’re all fixed anyway.  You know how jaded these young kids these days get; all worldly and knowing they are.  I challenge him a bit and ask him how each of these games are fixed.  He makes some correct and incorrect guesses.  Then I ask him what the actual chances that any of these games are fixed.  He says low and I ask him why would they be low.  He says because these are for kids.  It’s a well reasoned and well spoken conversation.  I leave him to spend the rest of the afternoon with the family and head back to the table because now it’s time for me to head out again.

I bid farewell to everyone and climb back into my car.  My next stop is Frank and Sons Collectible Show over in Industry.  I just need to pick up some sleeves and a box for my sister’s belated birthday present.  If you are at all interested in any thing geek/pop culture or sports memorabilia then you must plan to check this place out sometime.  You must go unless you are particularly weak and undisciplined.  This Frank and Sons will rob you of your hard earned money and you’ll thank them for every great deal you find.  This is where I pick up my boxes for MTG.  I save ten bucks off retail.

I’ve been to Frank and Sons so many times there’s little chance I’ll get lost, but I’m not sure which freeway to choose that connects the 210 to the 60 so I check Google and I find that it’s the 605.  It’s a lot easier for me and cheaper too to take the bus out to this place, but I’ve got one more stop to make after so driving makes more sense.  I arrive with about an hour or so before the whole show shuts down for the day.  Parking is a bit of hassle, but it’s late enough for there to be a few people leaving.  I walk through the side door and I grit my teeth preparing myself to ignore all the booths except for the one booth that sells sleeves.  I do pass by the booth that sells MTG boxes and I can’t help myself.  I stop to ask them if they have any packs of Mirrodin Besieged and New Phyrexia.  I’ve got a couple of packs of Scars of Mirrodin lying around my room gathering dust; I just need ten more packs to have two sealed sets.  Luckily they’re sold out and I get away without spending any money on that or five dollar packs of Time Spiral.  I may not let my eyes linger on the tables of graphic novels priced to move, but I know they’re there.  I just tell myself I can find things like that downtown at the Central Library.  I finally make it to where I’m going and make my purchase.  And with that I’m out the door and back in my car.

On the road again and I’ve got about an hour and half before I need to be at the Glasshouse.  If I’m early I plan to just hangout somewhere until my friends Tony and Kendrick arrive.  It’s nice to make plans on the off chance I arrive early; it’s not so nice to have to turn around and back track so many times before finally figuring out how to get where I’m going.  Suffice it say I don’t arrive early to the Glasshouse.  I get there, park, and just as I’m crossing the street I see Kendrick and Tony unloading their gear.

Tony’s at the show to document the band In Colour.  Kendrick is another set of hands for a second camera.  Me, I’m just happy to finally get out to the Glasshouse.  I do end up with a task though; I have to make sure the Macbook hooked into the soundboard doesn’t turn off.  It’s the least I could do for a free ticket to a show.

I walk into the Glasshouse expecting something like the Troubadour or The Roxy; I’m expecting a classic music venue along those lines except for the fact that it’s been mistakenly transported to Pomona.  For the most part my expectations are validated.  It’s nicely sized with a reasonably large stage.  High ceilings give the spot an airy feel; there’s no sense of crampedness.  I can imagine a big crowd in here; I might even still feel comfortable here unlike nights at the Troubadour where I felt suffocated by the sheer mass of bodies.  It reminds me most of the defunct Ruby formerly The World over in Hollywood.  It also has a balcony to explore.  After properly exploring the Glasshouse I pass the time with Kendrick and Tony until I decide I need some refreshment.  I check out the snack bar where I’m confronted by the fact that the Glasshouse is a dry establishment.  GASP.  I tell my friends I’m heading out to “explore” and that I’ll be back.

From what I can see the majority of the businesses on 2nd Street are closed.  I do note an open bookstore and a bakery.  Also about a block away Social Distortion is playing to a packed house at the Fox Theater.  There’s the sound of light jazz music playing.  I follow it passing too many beauty schools to count--Why would any town especially Pomona need so many beauty schools?  It’s a mystery.--and discover a small Jazz thing happening.  I hang back there a spell just listening until I start to wandering again.  Before I left Tony had asked me if I had gum, I told him I’d try to find him some.  Unfortunately I don’t see anything remotely like a Rite Aid or CVS nearby.  Really Pomona?  Where’s the love for convenience stores where a guy can buy a pack of smokes and some gum.  I do remember passing a couple of gas stations on my way in on Garey.  I don’t have anything better to do so I decide to walk the three or four blocks or so to pick up smokes and gum.

I walk past Joey’s Barbecue; it’s well lit and relatively uncrowded for a bar.  I’ll stop there for a beer before I head back to the Glasshouse.  Unfortunately I pick the wrong side of Garey.  I walk under the train tracks and walk up a flight of stairs and find myself at the Metrolink Station.  I walk around some but can’t find a way out of the station that leads back to Garey without taking a wide circle detour.  Shrugging I start back to Joey’s Barbecue and order a Dubbel Fist; the name spoke to me.  I sip it all away and smoke a cigarette before returning to the Glasshouse.

There’s music playing now, but the first band is noisy and too hardcore for my taste.  They’re not particular good either, so I can’t even appreciate their musicianship.  I wait out their set outside chain smoking.  When I get back inside another band is playing.  This one’s just a little bit better or at the least not bad enough to drive me outside.  They sound a lot like 400 Blows, but with a better lead singer who’s ample stage presence is interesting enough to keep and hold my attention.  The band finishes their set and Tony finds me to tell me that the band he’s shooting is up next.  I watch them fuss with their gear and they talk about their plans to shoot the stage from both sides.  I tell Tony he should try to get some shots from the balcony.  It’s a run for him, but I think it should be worth it.

When In Colour takes the stage I’m surprised to find that they are all a bunch of fresh faced suburbanites.  They are not the regular hipsters and scenesters I’m used to seeing onstage.  I don’t see their lead singer before they begin playing a tight set of instrumental rock songs a la Explosions In The Sky.  It’s bluesy and groovy; it’s like listening to the best bar band you can imagine.  They’ve got some chops; even the veteran sound guy agreed that they showed potential.  I’m sure he’s not easy to impress.  After the set of instrumentals, I’m expecting them to start off on their other original material this time with vocals, but instead they give us something comforting: a cover song.  Bands with more experience and ego might hesitate to give the crowd a cover of Zeppelin’s Rock and Roll, but bands who truly care about the crowd will throw us a bone every once in a while.  It makes for a perfect transition to second half of their set.  Kiana, their lead singer,  puts out a fine effort on Rock and Roll, but she truly shines on In Colour’s other songs.  She has a fine stage presence that I find entrancing.  Someone compared her to Fergie, but I didn’t think that comparison apt.  It took me a while but I finally saw her similarities to other female vocalists like Benatar and Hynde of the Pretenders.  I can just imagine In Colour doing a cover of Brass in Pocket as Kiana struts defiantly around the stage.  Their instrumentals can be found at http://betweenthespent.bandcamp.com/album/initio.  Sadly I could not find their other material, but they are playing tonight on leap day http://www.facebook.com/events/216071401822869/.  I expect I’ll go to hear them again and firmly solidify my opinion of them.

In Colour’s set ends and both Tony and Kendrick are exhausted from their efforts.  They’ve been running around the Glasshouse while I was standing behind a computer enjoying the show.  They pack up and put away their gear.  I finally get a fresh pack of cigarettes and gum.  We have a couple of rounds in Pomona; sadly Joey’s Barbecue closed at the ridiculous hour of nine.  So we end up at the bar adjoining The Glasshouse.  It’s one of those postmodern deals with exposed brick everywhere.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they had exposed brick toilets in the bathroom.  We three wind down before heading back to the city for a well deserved--at least for Kendrick and Tony--rest.

The next day I double check the GOOGLE directions and I discover how badly I was mistaken when I wrote them down.  My bad...I just have to be more careful writing down directions.

Veronica Mars: The More Things Change

It looks like they’re serious about putting Mac and Buddy through the wringer.  They have them sitting in good old Interrogation Room 2.  It’s warmer in there than it should be making their faces sheeny.  The room is blank and impenetrable to contemplation; it’s not the place to be when you need think up a good alibi or excuse, and there Mac and Buddy sit.  Neither of them are really aware of what the sheriffs of Neptune County are really up to.  A uniformed sheriff enters the room.
“Would you like a coffee?” she asks Mac.  To Buddy, “How about a soda?”
Mac dismisses her with a shake of her head.
“Coke would be cool,” Buddy answers.
Veronica knows that if Mac had agreed to coffee it would either be ice cold or otherwise undrinkable. Even the coke Buddy may or may not receive will probably be warm; it will likely erupt violently upon opening.  This is a scene of a scripted story that she’s all too familiar with.  She lets the scene play out for ten more minutes before she asks, “Is this really necessary, guys?”
They won’t let her or Adam join Mac in the interrogation room.  They wouldn’t have let them stand in the observation room without a phone call from Leo.  She didn’t enjoy making that call, but it was worth it for her to make sure Mac and Buddy were treated fairly.  Who knows what kind of craziness they’d try to pull if she weren’t there watching?
“Are you really going to ice them like this?  What...you going to leave them hanging in there for an hour.  You think that’ll break them or something?  I’m going to Leo and telling him this amateur hour has got to stop.”
Veronica looks to Adam for some support but he’s in observation mode oblivious to the conversation.  His eyes are focused on his charges and any threat to them that might suddenly appear.  She has no doubt that should some threat make itself seen he would be jumping gun in hand through that one way mirror like a Hong Kong action hero.
A pair of suited detectives consider her words silently then consult with each other with looks.  One just shrugs and leaves the room.
“How about I get in there and help you guys out?”
“Now...now...Miz Mars, Sheriff Leo was especially clear on that point.  Under no circumstances are you to be allowed into the middle of the interrogation.  I hope you recall that.”
Sometimes it sucked not having that badge pinned to her hip anymore.
“You stay here,” he continues.  “You watch.  Nothing more.”
He leaves her alone in the observation room to watch his partner enter Interrogation Room 2.  A can of coke in his left hand and a manila folder in his right, he casually takes a chair opposite to  Mac and Buddy.  He slides the coke to Buddy who makes a sticky mess of opening the can.  To this Veronica can only sigh and shake her head.  Buddy is embarrassed and ashamed; he should have known better.  He looks at his mother for some kind of comfort, but she’s a little preoccupied with her own worries for him to care about spilled soda.
The second detective barges into the room; the door BANGS when it slams open.  And when the detective turns it BANGS when he slams it shut.  It startles both son and mother and each of them sit at the edge of their seats paying complete attention to the second detective.
“We got you kid!” the second detective booms.
The first detective waves his manila folder around.  Veronica suspects there’s nothing in it save for blank papers or maybe swimsuit shots from the last department trip to Mexico, but she can’t do anything about it but watch and wait.
“Eyewitness accounts put you at the scene of a burglary earlier around six.  We’ve got you, and you’re Mommy can’t do anything for you.”
The last sentence is directed at Mac.  Veronica can’t imagine what she’s going through right now.  She could usually count on Mac to sass the cops, but right now Mac’s feeling like her kid’s whole future is on the line.  It’s a vulnerability all mothers share, and these detectives are taking complete advantage of it.  She’s probably running through all the horrible possibilities and just as she’s winding down through the worst of them: Buddy in prison.  The detectives slow themselves.
“But we know it’s not true,” the first detective says sweetly then adds, “Your son is in trouble, but if he just helps us out with this then everything will be fine.  Your family won’t have anything to worry about.”
Mac, like any truly desperate person, knows a lifeline when it’s thrown to her.  Veronica can read it in her eyes, she’s ready to do anything and say anything to put this madness behind her.  Mac’s brain just isn’t working right now and the only thing that Veronica can think of to do is slam her open palm SMACK on the observation window.
She does that two more times in quick session.  SMACK.  SMACK.  The second and third times catch the attention of the room.  If she and her friend Mac could only just lock eyes that would snap Mac out of it.  Veronica is sure of that.  She’s just staring into her friend’s eyes and willing her to snap back to herself.  For some strange reason it works.
Veronica watches Mac turn her head back to the detectives and say one word softly but firmly, “Lawyer.”

CONGRATULATIONS OR BEST WISHES